Titanic
by chanceux
Summary: Aboard the Ship of Dreams, beautiful and privileged Winry is on her way to getting married to arrogant Roy Mustang. Hopeless and forlorn, she finds herself falling for the carefree spirit Edward Elric...Nothing on earth could come between them. AU
1. A Lost Soul, Found

**Titanic**

**Chapter One: A Lost Soul, Found**

((Note: This is like a tribute to the Titanic movie. It will have the story of Jack&Rose in it with changes of course, as well as quotes from the movie. I do not own the Titanic movie, or Fullmetal Alchemist.))

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"_It's been 84 years, and I can still smell the fresh paint. The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in. Titanic was called the Ship of Dreams, and it was. It really was."_

It was the epitome of perfection. A faultless jewel, which many declared was never going to be worn around a lucky woman's neck again. Rumored to belong originally to Louis the Sixteenth…

Le Coeur de la Mer, The Heart of the Ocean.

It was true to it's name…old tales told of how just gazing into it had you lost into it's deep blue abyss, an ocean of secrets from it's past owner that could never be told. The precious necklace had not been seen since the fateful night of April 14, 1912…the sinking of the most famous ship in the world, the R.M.S. _Titanic_…

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A lone man sat in a room filled with darkness to its brim—not a peak of light had crept in. A small, wooden desk with torn papers lay in front of him. His head was cradled in his usually strong, muscular arms—however presently they felt listless and weak. London blue eyes gazed at the nothingness, waiting for something that would never come.

There was a sound of gentle knocking…then light flooded in.

"God damn it!" the man swore, rubbing his bleary eyes and looking angrily upon the visitor, his partner in work.

"I'm sorry to bother you." said she, Riza Hawkeye. Her expression and stance was determined and fierce. _Oh boy,_ thought the man, _here comes some speech of hers trying to convince me to do some shit_. His anger inside him grew.

Riza stepped forward and turned on the light, further irritating her leader. "Havoc, were you sleep…" she did not even get the chance to finish—Havoc jolted up from the desk violently, his hair a mess, fury in his eyes.

"Does it look like I was sleeping to you, Hawkeye?!" he roared ferociously, throwing the cigarette that had been in his mouth to the ground, stomping on it mercilessly. He looked back up to her emotionless face. Dark circles were under Havoc's eyes; clearly giving away the fact he had not been sleeping well or at all.

Havoc turned away quickly, now ashamed. This always happened; a failed mission, he became furious, let it out on someone else, and then felt guilty afterward. It had happened so many times Havoc was unsure if his partners would forgive him anymore, or perhaps this time they would send him off to anger management.

Riza stepped nearer to him, not cautious at all. She had always been a very brave person, unafraid to talk to people under all circumstances. "Havoc, it's all right. I'm sorry for bothering you once again."

Havoc shook his head. "Don't say your apologies. I flipped out again." He took a couple of deep breaths. Riza lightly touched his arm.

"It was for a reason." she uttered quietly to him. "I am upset about this expedition also, Jean. Please know that."

Sighing, he mumbled, "I do know that." Whenever someone called him 'Jean'—his first name—he always seemed to soften…

"People have sought for this jewel for decades. We all knew it was a very tough goal to take on. And we have done our best on our latest mission to find it."

She was, of course, talking about Le Coeur. Havoc, she, and another man named Fuery had been searching for the necklace since long, long ago. Havoc, being the leader, ultimately felt the shame each time they did not find it. They had seemed to search every inch of the Titanic that they could search…but to no avail. Havoc turned around and stared at his loyal partner. "You're right. We did do our best. But I suppose that necklace is just buried deep inside Titanic's wreck somewhere, where we aren't allowed to look." He glanced away at the last comment, slightly irritated.

Riza nodded. "Could be. But, perhaps, we could have a little help in finding it the next time we go down to the wreck." The blonde haired treasure hunter shook his head tiredly at her reply, and began to gather his things from the desk. "I don't think there'll be a next time, Hawkeye. I'm so exhausted of going in that stupid submarine thing every time and not finding anything." He threw on his coat and muttered to himself. "Everyone else got all the valuable stuff already, other than Le Coeur." He was on his way out of his research room, Riza behind him with a tiny smile on her pale, usually strict face.

"Are you sure about that decision, Havoc?" she almost giggled, holding out a wrinkled up, small piece of paper in front of her.

Curious Havoc turned and blinked at the paper, reading it closely…

"_Titanic survivor, Winry Rockbell, to come to ship tomorrow._"

He looked up at his fellow blonde beauty. "Well, what the hell does THIS mean?"

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"Wow! A real Titanic survivor, huh! I bet she was in first class and wore the fanciest clothes, and I bet—" the excited Fuery was cut off by Havoc's hand clamping his mouth shut.

"I got one word for you, Fuery: relax." Havoc nodded at his own advice. "We gotta be calm around this little old lady. We can't startle her, frighten her, or any of that crap, 'cause it might end up in her kickin' the bucket. And boom! No Titanic stuff for us." He let go of Fuery's mouth.

"Of course," Fuery nodded in complete agreement. "I'll be calm, promise!"

Riza rolled her eyes. "You're so greedy."

Havoc blinked at her innocently. "Greedy? How?"

But before she could answer, the sound of a noisy helicopter came to the trio's ears. Havoc dashed off out of the cabin to meet the survivor, Fuery began to do a little dance of utter happiness, and Riza sighed, thinking. _Hope this all goes fine, and manages to cheer Havoc up a bit. Even though she can't provide us with Le Coeur, she might be able to tell us a few stories_.

The other two soon made it outside to Havoc jumping up and down in front of a landing helicopter. Riza held back laughter and Fuery darted to his leader's side. The helicopter hovered above the ground steadily and landed on the helipad. A wheelchair ramp popped out of the door. Havoc grinned and moved closer to the ramp, impatient to see the old survivor.

And she was old, all right. Her skin was as wrinkled as clothes you kept squished inside a small backpack for months. Behind her wheelchair a much younger woman with brilliant, short red hair gently rolled the survivor down onto the ship. One of the men in the helicopter hurriedly began to take out luggage, and the pilot gave a little wave to the in-shock Havoc.

"Havoc?" Riza was almost tempted to poke him. "…Jean!"

He jumped out of his state. "Eh?!" he looked at Riza.

Riza took her gaze to the survivor, Winry, and smiled sincerely. "It really is believable that she was on the Titanic, isn't it?"

"Certainly is."

Fuery was itching to meet Winry as she and her red-haired friend directed the men of which bags were which. He moved from foot to foot, unable to be still. "This is the person we've been waiting _years_ to meet, guys!" he said quietly, just so his co-workers could hear. It seemed like ages before the suitcases were taken care of, and the elderly survivor wheeled over, the other woman cautiously behind her.

"Hello," Riza bowed deeply to them. "Ah, perhaps we should take this inside; it's hard to hear out here."

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"It is quite cramped in here," said the little voice of old Winry. Her pale blonde head almost touched the ceiling, and she was considered short.

"Sorry about that." apologized Havoc hastily. He wanted to get going and see if she knew about Le Coeur or not.

Riza nodded. "There are very limited spaces on a small ship like this."

Winry didn't seem to hear neither reply. She stared around at the televisions on the wall; they were everywhere, were all the same size and all had static on their screens. It was a little creepy, but Winry had seen so many things in her long life, nothing much amazed or frightened her anymore.

Fuery, as well, was anxious to learn. He sat forward in his chair. "So, Winry, about the Le Coeur…"

Winry glanced at him. "You haven't met my daughter yet, and you already want answers?"

The red headed woman, looking around the age of her early thirties, smiled sheepishly. "It's alright, Grandma."

"Ah, I apologize again," said Havoc nervously. "Uh, so what's your name?"

Riza punched his arm lightly. "I'm assuming you're her granddaughter, right?"

She smiled and bobbed her head softly up and down. "Yes. My name is Armony."

"Nice to meet you." all three said at once.

Winry jumped in. "Furthermore, I'd like to see some artifacts you brought back up from the wreck…as well as my necklace."

"Necklace? You mean Le Coeur?" the man with a small toothpick in his mouth asked. It was to take place of his habit of smoking…for now.

"No, no, the other one…The silver heart necklace."

Havoc blinked. "Of course, of course! Fuery, get the bin." Fuery swiftly picked up the bin and handed it to her.

Armony edged over next to her grandmother and peeked into the bin. There must've been at least twenty artifacts, all carefully and comfortably wrapped. Most were small, except for one large piece that was slightly larger than the rest…the necklace.

Winry immediately went for it, tenderly taking off it's wrapping. The others could see this object was more than precious to her. A gentle smile formed upon seeing it shimmer again, even in the dull light. A medium-sized, silver heart on a small silver chain was all it was, but it was one of the largest memories of Winry's first love.

She turned it over, and peered at the writing. She already knew what it said; but she wanted to see it in the etched script again. Her smile became larger, and tears brimmed on her bottom eyelids.

"How sweet!" Armony exclaimed, unable to hold her awe. Fuery grinned. "Oh, are you reading the heart? I thought that was sweet too, when I read it!"

"It is," Armony agreed. Havoc was not impressed; he was searching for Le Coeur and didn't care about that dinky piece of silver.

Winry remained silent and placed the dear necklace around her neck. The pendant lay just a little below her neckline, perfectly. Her fingers lightly touched it once more, before she left it alone and went back to rediscovering the memories of that night so long ago.

Winry tenderly took the wrapping off of an elegant silver hand mirror, and lifted it higher. Looking back in the mirror were faces of wonder…Winry and Armony's.

"It looks exactly the same as it did the last time I saw it." She breathed, and gently put it down. She spotted another memorable relic, a hair comb of a jaded butterfly taking flight, and held it wonderingly in her hands.

"It's beautiful, Grandma," said Armony.

Winry chuckled. "It was my mother's. She wanted to go back for it, too…" She turned it slowly, admiring it still, experiencing a rush of memories that had been long silent for decades. Sighing longingly, she placed it back into its protective and wrapping, and both she and Armony and looked back up at Havoc, Fuery, and Riza.

Havoc's curious eyes met with Winry's. "Are you ready to go back to the Titanic?"

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((Whew, finally done…sorry that I didn't even get to the Titanic 'story' yet guys! But the next chapter will have it, I promise. I didn't want to make this one too long. I hope whoever read this liked it, because I love the movie Titanic, and am interested in the event too! Forgive me if some stuff is wrong. And…if you read, take the time to review? Arigatou gozaimasu!!))


	2. Prison or Palace

**Titanic**

**Chapter Two: Prison or Palace**

((Disclaimer: I do not own the movie Titanic nor Fullmetal Alchemist…-glomps Edo-kun- on with the show))

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There was a flutter in Winry's stomach. The thought of seeing Titanic again was haunting and poignant. The Ship of Dreams held too many emotions, too many adventures, too much love…things she had never forgotten, that consistently lived on. It was like an old movie, playing over and over again in a theater, with the theater being her mind.

"Miss Rockbell, did you hear my question?" Havoc was serious now.

There was a pause, and she wearily nodded her head. "Yes, I did. Go ahead."

Armony placed her hand on her grandmother's comfortingly. "Are you sure you're not too tired?" A true look of worry was in her eyes.

"Armony, I'm an old, old woman. I look and feel tired all the time. But please, go ahead and let me see. I'm curious."

"Whatever you say." Havoc signaled for Fuery to turn the live feed on from the wreck.

Seconds later, images filled the once static screens. Winry immediately scanned over all of them raptly. The rusty, slowly decaying ship at the bottom of the Atlantic had once been the grandest vessel sailing the seas, and she had been on it. Amazed, her stare stopped at one image, the bow railing. She was completely enthralled…a wave of reminiscences washed over her, then slowly diminished again as she was brought back to the present and reality.

Riza studied her reactions. "Does that particular image mean something to you, Miss Rockbell?"

Winry turned away from the monitors and brought her fingers to her necklace, rubbing over it thoughtfully. Before she got a chance to answer, Havoc jutted in. "The bow was struck in the bottom, like an axe." He stared at one image himself, and then turned to Winry. "We made a simulation of the event. Here…" He went to his computer and began bringing up the file.

"I don't think Miss Rockbell would want to see, Havoc." Riza glowered at him, his obnoxiousness was unbelievable.

"No, it's fine." Winry started to move her chair more in front of the computer, but she struggled. "And…please…call me Winry. I feel too royal when I'm called Miss." Armony quickly helped her in front of the screen.

Riza wondered why Winry would think feeling like royalty would be a bad thing.

"Finally," said Havoc under his breath. The computer graphics started on the screen, not very detailed, but they portrayed the incident well. "All right, so first it the iceberg on the starboard side and it cuts deeply down. Now its flooding in the forward compartments... and the water spills over the tops of the bulkheads, going behind. As its bow is going down, the stern is coming up slowly at first. As moments pass, it begins to go faster and faster until it's rising out of the water…and then CRAAAACK!" The animated Titanic broke in half at his sound effect. Riza sighed, but Fuery and Armony remained interested. Winry showed no emotion.

"It splits!" Havoc exclaimed. "The bow goes down quickly, and the stern seems to bob back into place, giving the false impression that the ones on that half of the ship were saved. Then it starts to sink more quickly than before…" He pointed to the screen. "And it sinks, disappearing into the ocean forever." The animation displayed the stern hitting the bottom miles away from the bow, digging deeply into the sea floor.

Havoc promptly closed the presentation at the end and grinned. "Now wasn't that cool, Winry?"

Winry smiled slightly at his attitude. He knew the facts, but he didn't know the feeling of the cold April evening. "Oh yes, it was Mr. Havoc. What you described was right."

Havoc's grin grew wider at her reply. He looked at Riza with an 'I-told-you-so' expression. "See? She liked it!"

"But," she continued. "Of course, you would understand the experience of it was much more."

Fuery spoke up mildly. "Will you share that experience with us all, Winry?"

Winry glanced to him, then to the monitors' images of the ruins. Different memories raced through her thoughts, and she could see the passengers jumping off the railing into the freezing black abyss below. The terrified faces, all fighting to live…the small children some left behind, crying and alone, waiting for their parents that had abandoned them. "Women and children first!" she swore she could hear ringing in ears, above frightened screams…

The sudden flow of emotions and visions gripped her heart and tore into. Once more, tears brimmed on her eyelids, but now they came falling. Winry brushed her teardrops away and let out a shaken, sorrowful sigh.

Armony stood up abruptly while the other three gazed on at Winry. "This isn't good for her right now. She needs to go rest." She grabbed onto the wheelchair.

"Stop!" Winry commanded with a powerful voice that surprised everyone, even herself. "I'm staying."

Armony hesitated, staring at her grandmother. Letting go of the chair, she promptly sat back down.

"Winry," Riza started slowly. "Are you sure? You don't have to tell us anything."

_Shut up, Hawkeye! _said Havoc in his mind. _You care too much for your own good._

The wise old woman nodded in reply. Havoc gave a motion for everyone to be quiet.

"Tell…tell us everything!" squeaked Fuery.

"Fuery!" Havoc groaned. "I just signaled you to—"

"I will, Mr. Fuery." Winry gave a little knowing smile. "Trust me, I will."

Riza switched on the recorder.

"Well," she began a tale that surely none of them would forget. "It's been a little over eight decades, but I can still remember…the fresh smell of the still wet paint, the way every room glittered in radiance, begging for attention when you walked into it…Titanic was called the Ship of Dreams. And it was…it truly was…"

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"Daddy, look, it's a ship!" cried a little girl, dressed in third class clothing, sitting upon her father's shoulders. She pointed in wonder at the vastly gigantic ship, towering above the bustling area of the Southampton dock.

"It sure is," laughed the father, also dressed alike. Happiness danced in his eyes and was expressed on his broad grin.

Every other person getting onto the Titanic felt the same way. Excitement built as the passengers prepared to board, hugging their loved ones goodbye. Going to America was an opportunity like no other, and on such a beautiful ship too! The atmosphere was wonderfully busy on this true day of joy.

A gorgeous, white Renault pushed through the crowd of people, leading several other highly expensive cars. It halted to a stop and the driver scurried out, opening the backseat door for a regal dressed woman inside.

She stepped out with grace, the epitome of beauty. A white and light blue dress donned her, complete with an enormous feathered, sapphire colored hat. Soft eyes of azure took in the sight before her, a cool expression on her face, and she remained still.

"Does it not impress you?" said a silky voice beside her. It was her fiancé. He brushed his handsome raven hair out of his eyes.

She held her nervous breath when his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer. "Ah…I…just don't see what's so great about it. It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauretania."

"No bigger?" he smirked. "Winry, you're so naïve sometimes. The Titanic is over a hundred feet longer than that sail boat and much more luxurious as well. I know it will suit our high class needs." He gave her a small squeeze and then turned to her mother. "Ah, Sara, your daughter is so hard to astonish, even with this." He motion almost proudly to the gigantic ship.

Sara looked similar to Winry; the same blonde locks and blue eyes; but her face was sharper and strict. She led the other two, gazing at the view. "Roy, will you direct our bags to that porter?"

"Certainly," he replied smoothly, and tapped the White Star Line porter on the shoulder. "Excuse me sir, I trust you will take care of our carryings?" he gestured to the luggage, then handed the porter a fiver.

"Five pounds…!" gasped the man at the tip in his hands. He looked back up at Roy and gave him a quick nod. "Of course, of course, sir!" He ran off to accommodate their needs.

Roy never tired of seeing the lower classes' expression at money.

"Mr. Mustang, if I may," Mustang's valet appeared at his side. "Are you certain you want to trust all of our bags with him—even Miss Rockbell's?" Winry's bags held the most treasures of all. It was filled with beautiful dresses and jewelry that Mustang had given her.

He waved it off. "He wouldn't attempt to steal so much. The officials would be on him in moments. Go help the porter, Caden." The valet did as he was told, and Mustang then smirked at his fiancé. "Don't worry, your belongings will remain safe, my dear. As I know they are precious to you."

_Hardly,_ Winry retorted in her thoughts.

Sara sighed in interruption. "Honestly, Roy, if we had gotten here sooner we could've been on the ship by now with others of our kind, instead of this." She glanced around in disgust at the surrounding people; all third and second class.

"Mm, well it was it your little girl that was holding us back," Mustang's trademark smirk played upon his lips. "You know how she must have her beauty rituals."

Winry looked ahead steadily. "_You_ told me to change."

Mustang turned suddenly to her, and ran his hands down the sleeves of her dress greedily. "You look stunning, and this dress was much more beautiful than that nightmare you were going to put on." He assured her quietly. "Besides, it's bad luck to wear black on sailing day."

"I felt like black."

A shrill voice called to them from up ahead. "Roy, Winry! We don't have all of the time in the world!" Mustang took his fiancé's arm and together they rushed along with Winry's mother.

As they treaded, Winry looked along the Titanic with misery. It loomed above them with its great iron hull of a Bible black, intimidating her. It _was_ a Ship of Dreams—to everyone else. To her, it was a prison taking her back to America in chains, with her mother and Mustang holding her down…

"Winry, wipe that look off your face," warned her mother in a sharp voice. "Here we are going on one of the most lavish ships in the world and you are acting as though you are to be hanged upon it!"

"Ah, don't worry, Sara. I'm sure I can loosen her up a bit." Mustang said playfully, and Winry's stomach churned with anxiety at the suggestion.

As if it were her own wish to happen, two small steerage passengers ran past Mustang, jostling him as they shoved past. The father as well bumped into him as he pushed through, eager to catch up to his children.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mustang snapped as he steadied himself.

"Sorry squire!" the father shouted, and kept on dashing through.

Winry bit her bottom lip to hold back laughter. Mustang dusted himself off and mumbled in frustration. "Steerage swine."

They neared the gangway to the D deck doors, closer and closer, step by step. Winry now stared at her feet in sparkling shoes, feeling an overwhelming sense of dismay. Almost a week's time of just herself with Mustang, her harsh mother and snobby first class passengers was not her idea of a good time. Then again, she had not had a 'good time' since her childhood, the days where she could play in her parents' garden all day and not have a care in the world.

She took one last glance at the lively dock, and then disappeared into the floating palace, her penitentiary.

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"You nincompoop! I can't believe you bet our tickets!" rumbled the more cautious Swedish man.

"Just shut up and keep playing," said the other coolly, though he was nervous as well.

"Don't you think it's a bit strange to be playing 'Go Fish' for such a valuable prize anyway?"

"It's the only game this stupid American knew how to play."

The American blonde butted in. "Hey now, your little Swedish friend's the one who suggested it!"

The Swedish man laughed with amusement. "Look who's calling who little, Elric."

Edward's eyes widened with anger, but he forced himself to stay calm for this game, and merely grinned. "Let's just continue boys, you never know what could happen." He looked out of the small pub, at the sight of the Titanic.

Twenty five pairs had already been formed on Edward's side, and twenty six were needed for the game to end. The person with the most cards at the end of the game won; in this case, the two Swedish brothers were on each other's team, while Edward and his good Spanish friend Arsenio were on the opposing team.

Edward was completely confident that he would win. "You…" he pointed at the cautious brother, pondering on his name. "Alfred."

Alfred swallowed tensely.

"Give me your fours."

He dabbed some sweat from his brow and scanned his flush of cards, eyes darting back and forth. Edward and Arsenio crossed their fingers underneath the table.

"Well?" said the other Swedish brother. "Alfred?"

Alfred laid his cards on the table, holding one in his hand. He glanced once at his team mate, apologetic in his round, blue eyes. "Brother, I'm sorry…" his stare went back to the singled out card, and he then threw it at Edward and Arsenio.

Edward, grinning with triumph, looked to see where his matching four was. Suddenly, his smile faltered and converted into a frown.

The other man, Aron's look bore into Edward. "What is it?" he asked with slight hope that Edward had lost.

He turned to his close pal. "I'm sorry, Arsenio." A look of disbelief formed on the Spanish fellow's face. "...Sorry that won't you get to see your mama for a long time, because we're going to_ L'America_!!!" Edward slammed his twenty sixth pair on the table, two four's, and raked in the money he had bet and the tickets. Arsenio stared at the winning pile before them for a few moments, before exploding into a string of Spanish.

Edward kissed the tickets and handed the other one to his friend. They danced around in a circle, looking like utter fools to the surrounding people. "America, home to the free and real hot dogs!" sang Edward with a feeling of flying euphoria inside of him. Arsenio hopped onto his back and rode him around the pub, whooping with his fists in the air.

"A...Aron!" Alfred finally wheezed out. He shot a look that could kill at his careless brother, who was sinking back in his seat. "You _moron_!" He threw a punch that knocked Aron right out of his seat, cursing profusely.

"You two going on the Titanic?" said the pubkeeper to the lucky duo gruffly. "It leaves in five minutes."

"In five?" Edward whirled around and at the very moment, Titanic's horns bellowed to the dock with it's departure warning. "Shit! Come on, Arsenio!" He snatched up his bags, not too full, and glimpsed at Arsenio standing there like an idiot. "Come _on_!!" Arsenio jumped and began collecting his belongings, shaking with excitement.

"I ready!" Arsenio beamed in poor English.

Edward nodded and cast a look at the two losers, still beating each other up. "It's been grand!" The fighting brothers didn't notice a thing as Arsenio and Edward sprinted out.

In their mad dash the blonde, hair pulled back in a messy braid, surveyed the monstrous vessel. He slowed to a stop It was bigger than any building Edward had ever seen in Europe. And he had been _many_ places.

"Ed!" cried Arsenio, and he grabbed him and pulled him along. They continued their bound towards the Titanic and scrambled through the slow-moving crowd of people staying behind. Almost every passenger was on the Titanic already.

Edward didn't waver to be impolite. "Move, move!" he bellowed, golden eyes shining with the rush.

Finally reaching the third class gangway at E deck, they clambered up the ramp, just as the White Star Line officer was about to detach it. "Wait! Passengers!" Arsenio hollered.

"Have you been through the health inspection?" questioned the officer.

"Of course!" Edward lied cheerfully and well. "Uh, besides, we don't have lice or anything. We're Americans!" He nodded surely but silently wished Arsenio didn't look so exotic right about now.

The officer rose his eyebrow in slight doubt. "Right, come aboard then." he moved to the side to let them pass. Glancing once at their tickets, he handed them to the quartermaster further into the ship.

"Alfred and Aron Brooks?" he looked up at the interesting pair, then stared at Arsenio. "Brothers, eh?"

Edward threw his arm around Arsenio. "Yeah, we're tight bro's."

The quartermaster's jaw dropped at Edward's slang, but he couldn't hold back a snicker. "Okay, go on through." The 'brothers' looked at each other and grinned, running past and shouting with victory.

"We're the luckiest guys in the world, Arsenio...I mean Alfred!"

"_Si, si, hermano_!" Arsenio couldn't resist speaking Spanish.

They burst through a door on the aft deck, and scuttled up stairs to the top. Edward ran to the railing and began waving and calling to the cheering people on the dock, as the seven tugs began to pull the Titanic away.

Arsenio blinked. "You know someone?"

Edward stepped onto the first bottom rail and continued to wave. "Nah, but who gives a heck?" he began to yell to the crowd. "Goodbye, I'll miss you! Goodbye!"

"Ah!" Arsenio realized his point. He leaned onto the railing and joined into the exhilarating moment. "Goodbye! I will never forget you!"

Edward gazed at Southampton and smiled while the others kept saying their goodbyes. This was probably the last time he might ever see the memorable town again. _Just a little longer, Al,_ he thought of his real brother, Alphonse, working in America. _And soon I'll see you again._

"Ed," Arsenio punched him lightly in the shoulder. "This is the best chance of my life. Thank you for being good at Go...Go..."

"Fish," Edward finished for him and laughed. He hadn't felt so happy in a long while. He scanned the other people's faces around him, and there was not one sad or emotionless looking expression in sight.

Traveling on the Titanic was a dream come true for everyone aboard. Who _couldn't_ feel the same?

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((A/N: Weeee, we got to some Titanic stuff but it was mostly boring! I apologize...and thank you so much for your reviews! They really motivate me to keep writing!

Also, some quick notes, I made up the character Arsenio and the _personality_ of Sara for plot purposes. I needed to make Winry's mother strict like in the movie, so really, I am sorry she's OOC. Gracias to one of the reviewers Kuropuu for telling me Winry's mom's name. The next chapter will have Edward and Winry meeting for the first time so be sure to check that out! Toodles!))


	3. A Secret Never To Be Told

Disclaimer: I do not own the movie Titanic/story of Jack & Rose, and I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

A/N: Hey guys, I just wanted to thank you for your reviews once more. I tried replying to the ones with questions; I don't know how that worked out…if you asked me something and didn't get a reply I'm sorry! I'm such a newb at lol. Anyhows…here we go!

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**Titanic**

**Chapter Three: A Secret Never To Be Told**

Edward and Arsenio walked down the narrow corridor, busily pushing their way through the emigrants around them. The passageway was almost as hectic as the Southampton dock itself.

Shouting filled the constricted spaces; arguments in strange languages were heard. Most were desperately searching for their cabin, looking up English words on the Titanic in books.

The braided blonde stopped at one of the many doors and without thought kicked it open, hauling his bag of belongings in on his shoulder. "Home sweet home," he grinned, and waved to the other two men in the tiny room of insipid white. Arsenio stayed behind his _amigo _with caution.

Both unfamiliar men stood with puzzlement upon their faces. "Where is Aron?"

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Winry glided her forefinger lightly down the surface of a watercolor piece. The new paintings were exquisite. More importantly, their beauty kept her mind off of the fact that she was now in the same room as Mustang, alone.

Truth be told, he scared her, in a sense. His ability to toy with her emotions was so powerful in her mind. Every time he touched her, blood rushed through her veins, up to her cheeks, and she felt her heart thumping with a deafening beat. Her reactions to him were shameful. Winry found herself time and time again thinking that he was horribly stuck-up and such an cruel man to the lower kinds, but yet physically it was so different.

Was it right to feel this way? Was it not a sin? Thoughts were tangled up inside her like vines. Yet at her age, with these people around her, she knew no one would ever listen to her. These were times when she so badly wished her mother was more empathetic.

Her sapphire eyes glistened over with tears but she fought them back. Footsteps which could only be Mustang's were heard behind her in the large, Empire-styled sitting room. Winry concentrated more on the Monet painting in front of her.

"Winry? Why are you sitting on the floor?" he sounded amused.

"Ah…" Winry sat up and turned to him. He was on the couch, observing her. She crossed her arms over her dress in discomfort. "I was just looking at the new pieces. They're fascinating."

Mustang chuckled. "They were cheap little mud puddles. A waste of money, really." He raised his head to look at the Degas painting of ballerinas. "I only got them because I spoil you so." His sultry eyes of russet met with hers.

Aggravated, she turned and stroked the frame of another abstract piece with care. "You're wrong. They're like a dream…truth without logic." She found the artist's name. "Picasso. He will be incredibly famous with art like this."

"He'll never amount to anything." Mustang shot back. He was annoyed himself. His bride-to-be was showing more interest in simple paintings rather than him. "Winry, come here."

She froze and inwardly resisted. Her mind roared with opposition. But, her body betrayed her and stood, and she walked to him. Mustang stood and placed his hands on her shoulders tightly; an act of possession, not intimacy.

"You're precious to me." he said into the silence. His orbs bore into Winry's, and she stared back with strength. There was an ache in her stomach that told her the situation wasn't good, and it was getting stronger by the second.

"Jewels are precious," Winry replied, her skin beginning to tingle with his physical touch.

Mustang's view dipped up and down her figure, and the outline of a tiny smirk formed on his lips. "Look at you, you certainly _are_ a jewel. Beautiful, rare, and something the world can't have." He ran his hands down her arms and settled them on her waist, pulling her closer to him. "Except for me,"

Tinges of struggle shot through Winry's blood. Being objectified was not enjoyable for anyone, right? She wanted to shove his hands off her, but she had to do this for her mother's happiness. Without marriage to Mustang, the family would surely lose their wealth quick enough. Winry had no choice but to force herself to love him.

She took his right hand and kissed it with lips firmly closed. Stiffly, her fingers brought Mustang's hands down to his sides. "I appreciate your compliments." Her voice was monotone.

Mustang studied his fiancée and frowned. "Why so bleak? We're alone now." Winry went towards the door with no answer. Surprised, rejection dawned on him. Rejection was not something Roy Mustang was familiar with, especially when it came to women.

"I think I should go to Mother now. She's having lunch with her friends and I would like to join them." Winry couldn't help but feel awkward. She didn't like to make people feel bad—but she'd much rather have lunch with her mother's snooty friends than have 'alone time' with Mustang.

She glanced in his direction, standing in the doorway. "Will you, erm, come with me?" she said with hope.

"I will. That is my duty as a husband, after all." Mustang treaded to her and took her arm, eying her in slight suspicion. She had been acting strange recently. "Come along now," He began to lead her out, walking their way to the Palm Court cafe.

Winry strode with him, her expression grave. She had only been on the Titanic for a few hours, and already problems were arising. How long would it be, until Mustang noticed her hostility towards him? Or had he already?

--------------------

_By the next afternoon we had made our final stop, and we were steaming west from the coast of Ireland, with nothing out ahead of us but ocean..._

The first class dining saloon was by far Winry's least favorite area on the ship. There was no excitement or fun, simply expensive carpeting, decorative, and silverware. How boring! She clanged her spoon lightly against her plate thoughtfully, looking around.

So many different faces, but as they spoke, they all seemed the same. They chuckled at the same jokes, agreed on the same things, mostly money, and conversed about how wonderful it was to be in first class on the Titanic. What disgusted Winry the most was that she had been brought up to be the same as well.

"Winry, stop that." a snappy voice ordered. Winry placed her utensil gently back onto the lace-coated table, glancing up to find her mother's hard eyes, telling her to behave.

"I apologize, Mother," Winry said insincerely.

A bald man with bushy, gray eyebrows cleared his throat. His tuxedo was neatly put together, with a proud White Star Line pin on the left breast pocket. "Where was I? Ah yes, the Titanic. She truly is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man, in history."

He turned to a more humble man sitting beside him, also in a tuxedo. Slightly messy, raven hair gave the impression that he was more carefree than his counterpart. "Our master shipbuilder here, Maes Hughes, designed her from the keel plates up."

Hughes disliked the attention. "Well, I might have put it all together, but the idea was Mr. Cornello's. His imagination told him of a grand, luxurious steamer, so luxurious that its ascendancy could never be challenged." He slapped the table playfully. "And here is that vision, in solid reality."

A woman sitting beside Winry, Rose, smiled with childish amusement. Her dark brunette locks framed her face. "Why're ships always being called 'she'? Is it because men think half the women around has big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?"

The group laughed, with the exception of Sarah and Winry. Chuckles faded, but the girl of wealth's desolation did not.

You'll have to share your life with him. Her insides twisted and her heart ached. There is no way out.

Underneath the table, she pressed a tiny fork from her salad into her skin until it drew blood.

All chattering and noises slowly disappeared as Winry went deeper into her thoughts, contemplating on her life.

Her time spent at home had been many etiquette lessons. Sarah was determined, always, to make her daughter a true-to-heart lady and didn't hesitate to teach Winry for hours straight. All her life, she had been taught, restrained from the world around her. Even as she developed into a woman, she was still under the strict hand of her mother. In despair, Winry knew she always would be.

Reality struck. She glanced at Sarah who was talking with Cornello again about the liner. An urge seemed to grasp her. Reaching into her small, glittering purse, Winry pulled out a cigarette and prepared to light it.

"Winry!" Sure enough, her mother had seen right away. "You know I don't like that."

The damsel in distress looked longingly at the cigarette, her temporary stress reliever. She quickly lit the smoke and brought it to her mouth, just for one puff.

"She knows." Mustang promptly took the cigarette and stubbed it out. Winry looked away. Truthfully, she didn't like smoking anyway, but all she wanted to do was feel some relaxation on this night.

Her sapphire eyes went back up and she saw the waiter.

Mustang glanced at the menu. "We'll both have the lamb. Rare, with a little mint sauce." The waiter nodded and moved away. "You like lamb, don't you, dear?"

Rose watched the dynamic between Winry, Mustang and Sarah. "Are ya gonna cut her steak for her too there, Roy?"

Mustang rolled his eyes. How he despised 'new money' like Rose.

Rose laughed to herself and turned to Cornello. "Who came up with the name Titanic, anyway?"

Cornello settled a napkin in his lap. "I did, actually. I wanted to convey sheer size. And size means luxury, of course, not to mention—"

_"_Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with _size_ might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Cornello."

All eyes turned to the younger blonde at the table. Hughes suppressed laughter, choking on his bread stick, while Rose shook with silent mirth.

The others stayed quiet. Sarah glowered at her daughter, grabbing Winry's wrist as a warning. "My God, what has gotten into you?"

Winry jerked her wrist away and stood up with defiance. "Excuse me." She stalked away out of the horrid saloon.

Mortified after her daughter's abrupt departure, Sarah's surprised eyes looked down in humiliation. "I…I do apologize. I'm not sure what's _wrong_ with her…"

"It's all right, Ms. Rockbell," chuckled Rose. She wiggled her eyebrows at Mustang. "She sure is a pistol, Roy. Sure you can handle her?"

Mustang smiled a bit tensely, but seemed unconcerned. "I might have to start minding what she's reading, I suppose." He continued to speak with the others, patiently waiting for his meal, while his fiancée went to jump to her death.

--------------------

The night sky was a dark blue with millions of magnificent glittering stars, the air a piercing cold. An almost black sea was becoming more and more welcome to the prosperous girl as she ran along the B deck promenade, bewildering fellow passengers. Her fair-haired tresses flew around her in a disheveled mess, her pearls scattered onto the deck as she ripped the necklace from her collar. Carelessly, she threw her purse to the side and kept running.

Her cheeks were streaked with tears, and they wouldn't stop coming. Shaking with emotions she didn't understand, nor want to suffer from anymore! The feelings were almost so familiar to her now it sickened her.

Self-hatred, hatred for others, desperation for the worst…

This life that she lived was of no light at all.

Winry slammed against the base of the stern flagpole and clung there, panting. Sobs escaped her, and she leaned over the object, weeping. Gaining control of herself, Winry suppressed more sobs and stood back up slowly, hitching up her dress and climbing over the railing clumsily.

Winry hung on tightly as she could to the railing, feeling the heavy rush of the wind behind her, pushing against her back. Moving carefully, she turned to face the black water that was 60 feet below her. The propellers churned the Atlantic into white foam with a ghostly trail following, fading into the horizon.

Fear almost got to her. Almost. Before she could let fear effect her decision, she thought of the dinner scene just a mere few minutes ago. Once more, her heart sunk and her body suddenly leaned out, while her view went to the vortex below, hypnotizing her. The solution to her problems, right there in front of her…or rather, below. Winry shut her eyes, letting the feeling take over her.

"Wait!" a male voice called out into the wind. Winry was struck with an urgent panic as the possibilities that it could be Mustang ran through her thoughts. Trembling with what was to come, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly as possible and felt herself clumsily fall straight down from the deck. The split few seconds of falling shocked her as her breath was lost, the air quickly becoming more icy, piercing her skin…

Now here was something she didn't expect to feel.

It was hands. Hands grasped onto her own, warm and strong. Winry gasped with surprise and her eyes flew open. The view around her was indescribable. All that she could see was the wide sky and ocean, rumbling below, threatening and powerful. Shrieking, she began to thrash this way and that, screaming and pleading for mercy from God.

"Stop doing that!" a voice shouted down to her. Winry forced herself to calm down and took in deep breaths. She closed her eyes again, unable to keep gazing at the sight around her.

The comforting voice spoke again. "Now listen to me. I'm going to start pulling you up now, okay? Once I do, you'll hit against the railing. You need to turn around then so you can crawl back on deck. Do you hear me?" It was calm, reassuring. It made Winry feel a tad bit safer.

"I hear you," said Winry, her own voice a bit weak.

"I'm going to now," the male voice shouted. The hands held on even tighter to hers, and she felt herself being pulled up. Her body bumped slightly against the ship, and Winry screamed.

"No, calm down! We're almost there, I got you!" Winry trusted the sound coming from above and suddenly felt her head bump lightly against the railing she had just jumped from. Her eyes opened. She held in her frightened whimpers and swallowed. Here we go.

Ever so cautiously, she shifted her body and turned to left. Her and her savior's arms crossed and made it difficult to keep holding on. Winry was filled with fright once more. "No! Don't let go!" she cried.

"I won't! I won't, I promise!" Winry now looked up to see where the voice was coming from. A handsome young man with unnatural golden eyes, of about a few years older than herself, stared into her soul.

He leaned back and grunted, heaving her up with all of his strength. Winry's upper body knocked against the railing and she jaggedly brought her legs up to crouch under her. Her knees shook as she vigilantly stood, while the young man still held onto her hands.

He smiled. "See? I told you I wouldn't let go."

Winry was too weary to answer. She stood upright and began to climb over the railing, falling onto the deck with complete exhaustion, and pulling him down with her.

He landed with a thud and looked at her. "You all right now?"

Winry breathed heavily and brushed strands of hair out of her eyes. "I think so." Her azure eyes suddenly widened as she realized he was on top of her, her dress's sleeves half hanging off.

He chuckled again at her reaction. "I'm Edward Elric."

"Winry Marie Rockbell," she replied. Yes, she should get off, but it felt so comfortable like this. Safe.

Winry then noticed he had golden blonde hair to match his eyes, tied back in a loose braid. He was extremely handsome.

"Well, I'm glad I was able to help." His grin faded. "What were you thinking, though?"

Winry paused. What had she been thinking? She tried to translate it into spoken words. "I can't exactly say. I was in complete misery and wanted to end it all." Looking away, she sighed. "I'm not shameful for what I was going to do. You wouldn't understand how I was feeling,"

Edward blinked and leaned over to look into her eyes again. "I never said what you were doing was stupid or embarrassing."

Her cheeks heated in the cool outdoor air at his sudden closeness. "You never said that," she agreed, and pushed him away lightly, sitting up. "But I know you were thinking it. You were thinking, 'Boy, this girl sure is a moron for doing something like this.'"

"No, I was thinking, 'What could have made this girl want to do something like this?'" he frowned more. "There's some trouble in your life,"

"Some trouble!" laughed Winry, falling back again with fatigue. "That's an understatement,"

They remained silent. Edward, feeling awkward, sat up and reached his hand out to help her up.

Winry hesitated. She knew she was forgetting something, but what was it? Being rescued was not something that happened everyday, and the shock from almost falling off the massive ship was still making her tremble. "…Thank you." She took his hand and met his eyes with hers, her lips pursed.

He smiled, but their moment was interrupted.

"You there!" a shout echoed from the right of them. "Let go of her!"

Edward and Winry's heads both sharply turned towards the sound. It was a dark haired, tall figure, coming out of the darkness, in a high-class tuxedo.

"Mustang," Winry muttered, and bit her bottom lip.

"Who?" breathed Edward. He didn't let go of her hand.

Mustang stopped in front of them, panting slightly. "I told you to let go of her," he narrowed his eyes at Edward. "Now do so before I have to get others involved."

"Mus—Roy," Winry corrected herself. "Please, this isn't what you think."

"Is it not?" Mustang's eyes scanned over them. Winry's dress was almost off, skirt hitched up, one stocking torn. The other blonde's jacket was falling off him, not to mention he had been on top of her—his fiancée!

Edward finally let go of Winry's hand, and stood to meet eye-to-eye with Mustang. It was a little difficult, seeing as he was shorter. "What makes you think you have the---"

Winry kicked his leg lightly. She stood as well. "Don't be angry, please…I was ah, leaning over the rail, getting some ah…fresh air. I wanted to look at the…the…"

"Propellers?" Mustang raised his eyebrow.

"Yes! The propellers, that's what their called, isn't it?" she chattered on. "I was leaning over too far and almost fell over, but Mr. Elric saved me. If it weren't for him, I would've surely fallen over,"

Mustang paused and stared at Edward. His dirty, tattered clothes disgusted him, but a hero was a hero. "Is this how it went?"

Edward glanced at Winry, her eyes begging him to go along. He nodded quickly. "Yes sir, it was,"

He mumbled. "Fine, then. I understand. Winry, come along, we must get back to dinner," he took his fiancée's arm.

"No," Winry argued. "Perhaps, a little something for Mr. Elric?"

"Ah," Mustang nodded. "Of course. A twenty should do it," he began to take out his fat wallet.

Edward shook his head, stepping away. On the other hand, Winry was almost fuming. "Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?"

Stunned, he replied, "You're displeased, I see."

"Observant of you,"

Mustang turned to the other male. "Mr. Elric, perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow? To tell your heroic tale to the others, of course,"

He looked straight at Winry. "Sure, I'll go."

"Good. See there, dear? It's settled, the young man will be repaid." He put a protective arm around his bride to be, beginning to walk her away. "Let us go now,"

Winry let out a small sigh, and glimpsed quickly behind her. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Elric," she said softly. She was not sure if he could hear it.

Edward watched as they treaded into the night to disappear. A giddy feeling rose inside of him. Imagine him, first class dining! And with this Rockbell, too. It was to be a new experience, and certainly an interesting night.

Another feeling was inside of him as well, as he thought of Winry again. She was lovely, but he wasn't sure what to think about her personality. Stubborn? Maybe. Spoiled? Seemed like it, she was first class after all. But her story interested him, and the only way to hear the rest was to meet her again.

A smile formed on his lips as he sat down on deck, wrapping his jacket around him, alone in the dark. They had a special relationship now. What Winry had told to her apparent boyfriend—or something like that—was a lie. He wouldn't tell anyone that it wasn't true for the world. For they had a secret now, and he would always keep it.


End file.
